Game, Set, Match
by flaafo
Summary: The game of love is a dangerous one


It seemed like a textbook romance. One was always fawning over 'adorable' things, the other acted machismo. It was cutesy, how they acted together, so innocent and sweet, no one suspected what went on behind closed doors. But they were volatile. There were occasional bruises on his face, and when he explained they were from 'rough housing,' no one thought more of it. The only person that saw through the ruse was the one meant to be hurt by this relationship.

He could see how makeup was carelessly applied to the bruises dotting the collarbone, or the small, red marks on the ear. He knew that the sweetness was a disguise only to those not meant to known; the secrets of the bedroom were too great to let slip into the public accidentally. No, what they were doing was on purpose. They were terrible to each other, they were horrible, it was easily described as-

"Japan, what was that word you used to describe China and America's relationship?" England asked late one afternoon. The UN meeting was long over, but England had some business with Japan, which they discussed, and now England had just noticed China and America were still there.

"Yandere, England-san," Japan said formally, his gaze mimicking England. They watched America giving China a ride on his back from a distance. They were both laughing, until America dropped China accidentally.

England scowled at the pair. Turning away in disgust, he questioned the definition of yandere. "I've never heard that word before. What does it mean?"

Japan took a moment to reply, as if he had to word his sentence carefully. "It's when somebody is initially very sweet and loving to someone or something, but then they turn nasty, usually violent." He bowed his head to China when he mentioned the 'somebody.' However, he didn't verbally say who was the aggressor in this relationship.

"Wait," England said, interrupting Japan. Japan marginally frowned, but allowed England to continue. "You've noticed what's been going on?"

"Pardon?"

"How they've been pretending to be all adorable and toothache sweet, but really they're a ticking time bomb?" the Briton asked. "I thought it was only me who noticed."

"I apologize, England-san. America-san has been telling me about it." That statement confused England. He furrowed his brows.

"I would think he would come to me first if he was having trouble-"

"Oh, no," Japan said, "Excuse me for interrupting, but he's not having trouble. America-san is gloating."

That was a little unexpected for England, for he stood silent for at least a minute, letting the statement sink in. He opened his mouth a few times to speak, but quickly thought against it and instead looked like a suffocating fish on the docks. He finally found his voice. "Gloating? Why?"

"I believe," Japan stated, standing up from his position and facing England with a sympathetic smile, "He's trying to make me jealous by hanging around China-san instead of me." The dumb look Japan received allowed him to continue. "Since I have been around you more recently, England-san."

"Oh."

England had no idea what to ask next, so Japan filled in for him. "You're probably wondering why China-san is-"

England stopped Japan and stood up himself. "Okay wait why China?" he asked. "Did China come up with this petty idea? What does he gain from this? Is any of this a 'real' relationship? Does-"

Japan laughed quietly. "Slow down, England-san. You're speaking too fast for me to keep up."

England coughed awkwardly into his hand and looked away. "Ahem- Well...S-sorry about that."

"No need to apologize. I think you are the one that's jealous, yes?" Japan asked, "Otherwise you would not be so passionate about this subject."

England's face flushed pink in embarrassment. "I am _not_ jealous," he said with an infliction. "It's just that America-"

"Is fine," Japan finished. He tilted his head questioningly. "He has more than enough strength to take down China if he wished. Those bruises and scratches are intentional." He paused, giving England an inquisitive look. "Is there something you wish to say about this subject you aren't telling me, England-san?"

"N-no!" England said, biting his tongue. He looked offended by the question, turning to leave the room. "And quit calling me 'England-san,' it's too formal," he added as he stormed off.

"I apologize, England-san."

England pretended he didn't hear Japan as he grumbled and complained. He grumbled and complained while walking down the corridor. He grumbled and complained while turning the corner. He grumbled and complained while walking into America.

"Oh, hey England. Something troublin' you?" America asked. China was peeking over his shoulder with a small grin on his face.

England took a step back to survey the two. China kept the grin, though to England it looked more malicious than friendly, and America's grin was cheesy.

"Is there something you want, Opium Bastard?" China asked without so much as batting an eyelash. "Your gawking is unneeded."

"I...I was just heading home," England muttered, side-stepping the two.

"Oh, hey, so were we!" America quipped, completely cheery.

"Walking the opposite way?"

America's face reddened, and England noticed a new bruise under America's eye. "Where'd you get that?"

"Oh, this?" America pointed to the bruise. "Remember when I bent down to pick up the pen I dropped during the meeting? Yeah I hit my cheek on the corner of the table."

England shrugged. "Alright, fine. Be careful." He continued to exit the hallway and walk outside.

"Bye, England!"

"Zai jian, Opium!"

England kept to himself he knew the table was circular.

* * *

Over the weeks England found China and America weren't spending as much time with each other than when this spiteful game began, yet England couldn't help but finding himself growing more and more agitated with the thought of China and America being a "couple." To call them such was a mockery. Of course they were only using each other. America wanted to be closer to Japan and...If China was using America to make England jealous, it was working.

England was extremely jealous. But that was to be expected. Japan had predicted that. As for Japan's jealousy?

"I do not feel jealous," he answered when England asked him on the matter. "Why are you so worried. England-san?"

"I..." England paused.

"Do you like China-san?"

England spluttered. "Nonsense! Of course I don't. I'm worried for America, that's all."

"You're upset America-san is getting more attention from China-san than you are?" Japan continued. He took a solitary sip from the tea England had made before politely setting it on its saucer and never touching it again.

"Never."

"You're acting tsundere, England-san."

England crinkled his nose. "Now what the hell does that mean?"

Japan chuckled at England's reaction. "Someone with a tough, angry, irritable personality-"

"Hey!" England growled in displeasure. Irritable indeed. Japan continued.

"Who then warms up and shows a 'lovey-dovey' side." Silence held the room before the scraping of Japan's chair against the floor caught England's attention.

"Where are you going?" he asked idly. Japan merely looked at his watch before stating it was late and he had to go home.

"Oh, England-san, before I forget," Japan paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder, "If you don't move your pawns, you'll never check the king."

England mulled over these words silently for several minutes, trying to decipher Japan's questionable advice.

"Opium?" The word snapped England back to attention as he saw China's head peeking through the doorway. "You know it's after hours, everyone's going home."

"You're worried about me?" England asked, a bit surprised at how the orient country was (possibly) looking for him. He stood up hesitantly as China watched him like a hawk, pausing to smooth out his outfit.

"Of course I'm not, aru. Who would be worried about you?" China snapped, turning on his heel and walking away. England followed close behind, in case there was more to say. There wasn't.

"Then why would you be looking for me?" The question was posed offensively, as if the two had begun a battle of words. England couldn't help but smile slightly when he saw China's shoulders tense up.

Without turning around, China merely replied "I wasn't looking for you specifically, I was told to lock up, Opium."

"That's an outright lie. There are staff on hand that do that."

"T…They all left already. Look at the time if you don't believe me, aru." England checked his watch. It was quite late, perhaps China was right. But that still left a question hanging in the air.

"Why are you still here, then?"

China continued to walk without a response, never once looking back to see if England was following, which he was. After a confusing walk down the hallway, China stopped by a door and turned around. "This, aru."

"…What about it?" England didn't notice anything particularly special about the door. It led to a spare office England often used for when he had a work overload. There was a desk, swiveling chair, lamp, and long couch. There was a glass door leading to a balcony, hidden by thick green curtains. The walls were painted a pale yellow with white molding. What was different?

"…mer…ok...oor." China mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"I said …" More mumbling.

"Come again?"

"America broke the door, Opium!" China's exasperated face said it all. "Somehow he broke it so that it won't open from the inside, aru. Don't ask me how he did that, I don't know. I stayed behind to fix it."

England checked his watch again. 11:23 PM. China's fidgeting about the door's coming to be broken meant that he felt guilty about it.

"I'll fix it by next week, aru. I just wanted to see what exactly was wrong. And then I heard Japan's voice and knew he was talking to someone, but he left by himself. I was just curious, Opium."

"Whatever, you don't need to explain to me. I'm leaving now," England's tone was formal, business-like. "Don't forget we have another discussion tomorrow at three."

"Don't talk to me as if I'm stupid, Opium Bastard."

* * *

"Tomorrow at three" left as quickly as it came. Only an hour long, yet to England it was ages. China must have taken offense to the reminder of the meeting, for he made sure England paid attention to everything he did when it came to America. Everything was aggravating England. He sighed in relief when it was all over.

China and America stayed behind to discuss importing and exporting matters. England stayed behind to look over his notes. And China.

America got up and left fifteen minutes into their conversation. China looked upset. England pretended to not be interested in the matter.

When China left, England followed. Only to make sure if he was alright, nothing else. "China?" he called out. It was as if he just disappeared. Where the hell was he?

Finally England gave up strategy and just began looking into rooms. "Stupid…oversensitive, little—Oh." He bumped into China kneeling in front of the door mentioned to be broken last night.

"Hey!" China called out, pushed to the floor. "Watch where you're going, Opium."

"I thought you were going to work on this next week? Why not just pay someone to repair it?"

"Because," was the reply, thick with contempt, "I said I would fix it by next week, and fixing it myself will be inexpensive." He moved himself over to just inside the doorway, swinging the door to see if the problem was in the hinges. If it was, it had nothing to do with the bottom hinges. China stood up to check the higher ones. "So troublesome, aru," he muttered under his breath.

"Anything I might be able to do to help you?" England offered. Despite China's belligerent nature towards him, he only thought it right to ask.

"No."

It was just one word, but the way it was said, jagged and short, cutting the air like a serrated knife caused a frown from England. Nevertheless, he tried again.

"I'm only offering, and I'm sure it will go much faster if-"

"No."

"But I-"

China wheeled around to glare daggers at England. "What you are is a nuisance, aru. I'm surprised you've ever been able to do anything recently, with how you act as if the world owes you a favor and moping when it doesn't giv- Ah!" He now struggled against the grip England had on him, and although he knew England slammed him back up against the door to shut it and unintentionally lock them both inside, he wasn't concerned about that. He was more concerned about the hand around his throat.

"All you've been doing lately," England growled lowly, "is going out of your way to upset me. Fooling around with America, the name-calling, and now refusing my help with such an attitude?"

China's pride didn't allow him to keep quiet. "I don't need your help, Opium. I've never needed your help. I was fine without you, Opium bastard." China smiled for a moment when he saw the flicker of changing expressions on England's face, but he yelped and put his hand against the arm restraining him when the grip England had on him tightened.

England expression stoic expression softened when China made an attempt to pull away. He loosened his grip, his hand eventually falling away to his sides. He took a step backwards, eyes kept upon China, who looked a bit shocked from England's actions, and sighed. "Uhm," he said after some tense silence. He looked away from China out of guilt. "I'm...I shouldn't have acted like that. I'm sor-"

The realization of England being kicked in the face didn't occur to him until after he landed on the floor with a bloody lip and an already-forming bruise on his cheek. "What the hell was that for? I was apologizing and you kick me?" he yelled, face over his mouth. The flow of blood was heavy. He must have busted his lip badly, or knocked a tooth loose.

China skirted around England so that he was hovering over his head, like he was examining the wound from a distance.

That was when England grabbed China's ankle and pulled him down to the floor. Before China had any time to react to what had just happened, England pulled himself up off the floor and onto China, pressing his weight on the Asian's chest and pinning his hands above his head.

"Struggle all you want, China. The best you can do is kick out your legs," England said about the other's attempts to get free. Come to think of it, England thought to himself, China could probably get loose if he tried hard enough. He half-expected China to just throw him off, kick the door down and walk out as if nothing happened. The other half was for China to beat England senseless before walking out the door as if nothing happened.

He was surprised when neither of that happened, and China only resorted to exclamations and threats.

"Damn it, you're heavy! Get off me right now, Opium! You're so stupid! Aiya!" He continued his ranting and raving until England cut him off.

"Do something about it."

China was silent. He looked bewildered by what was said, so England repeated himself.

"You can clearly get out of this," England continued when he was received with more silence, "So what I don't understand is how you're so...accepting of the fact that I'm sitting on top of you."

"I am _not_ accepting of the fact, aru! Honestly if I wanted to- If I could- I...Oh!" China grumbled in defeat. His face was red with embarrassment and he couldn't make eye contact with England.

"You could have been planning this."

"_What_?" China hissed. "As if I would plan this out, aru." He tried to pull his hands free, but England wouldn't allow it. He tried to kick England off of him, which only resulted in frustration. Finally he asked, "What makes you think I was planning this scenario, aru?"

England leaned back, still restraining China, and contemplated a bit. "Well, not this exact situation, but a similar one, at least." China's skeptical look translated to "Please, continue. I'd like a legit reason to kill you" to England, so he continued, a bit more in detail.

"America loves rough-housing. You've seen him come in with broken noses before, untreated." England made a kind of face suggesting disapproval. "My point being," he said after regaining composure, "is he's usually proud of his nicks and scratches. But recently I've noticed him covering up bruises and red marks. Around the same time he's been hanging around you, actually."

"C...Coincidence, aru."

"Is it?" England ask, leaning dangerously close to China's face. China looked away guiltily. "You knew I'd notice."

China fidgeted. "I don't even know what you're talking about, Opium. I mean it's not my job to make sure he's alright. I've never seen these alleged bruises though. I'm not at fault."

"You've never seen the marks? Ever?" England asked. He leaned in closer to China. "They're in plain sight. There's one here," he nipped the crook of China's neck, enough to make the other yelp in slight shock. "And here." On the shoulder. "Here as well." A red mark on the ear. Each mark earned a different reaction from China. First shock, then anger, and eventually some form of acceptance. Of course, the anger never ebbed.

"-the hell are you doing, Opium?" China rasped when he found himself able to form words.

England shifted himself back so he was sitting more on China's legs. The friction created made China's facial expression change minutely, only enough for England to catch. So he did it again. A noise accompanied China's expression this time. It was nearly inaudible, but England was experimenting.

"I'm just showing you where America's hidden bruises were. Is that a problem?" He moved forward again, making China feel uncomfortable.

"It's a huge problem, you b- Ahn!" England moved himself up against China and was running a hand under his Mandarin shirt. His body shivered when nails left light scratch marks down his sides. There was a definite disapproving whine when England pulled away his hand.

"Oh, you actually like this, do you?" There was no attempt to hide the haughty tone. China's only reply was a "N...n-n-..." before he conceded in defeat and nodded. England wordlessly began to loosen his tie.

China didn't realize it right away, nor did he realize it when the two were deep in a kiss (which happened to leave him light-headed and dizzy). It was only when China wanted to help England unbutton his shirt that he realized his hands were tied to the leg of the couch. "What the hell kind of joke are you pulling, Opium bastard?" he tugged with fervor at the knot, but England had created it so China couldn't get free; at least, not without intense concentration. He ruined a good tie, but he got a better prize.

"Hey." England looked down at China, who glared up at him. "If my hands are tied how will you get my shirt off, aru?"

China had a point, if he wished to have the thing thrown to the side. England knew, however, that China was looking for an excuse to have his hands free. "You're right, how silly of me," he said, reaching for his jacket and fishing around in the pocket.

"What...What are you doing, Opium?" China asked, head cocked to the side to get a better look. England showed him the pocket knife, and the idea clicked. "Oh no. No, no, no. I actually _like_ this shirt, England, you can't just-" He cringed when the tear of fabric cut him off. "Englaaaaannd."

The other sleeve was done away with, and England tossed both the ruined shirt and the pocket knife to the side. Aside from the scratch marks, China's torso was clean of wounds. "I'll have to fix that, won't I?"

"Fix wha-ah!" China arched his back in protest to the pressure on his stomach. "Could you be more gentle, aru? Even I don't make America bleed." He seethed as another painful set of teeth marks mirrored the first. "-much."

England tried not to look surprised at how well China was taking this. He seemed to be responsive only to the attention England gave him, good or bad. If England didn't do anything, China would become anxious and irritable. When he tried to talk to China and China was snappish, all it took was an exploring hand.

"I'm tired of you messing around, Opium," China said through clenched teeth. "End it now before I do, aru."

* * *

Despite handling China roughly before, England was very gentle and careful with how he treated China. The slightest expression of discomfort and he would slow down or stop altogether. China would reprimand him, though. "You have an odd way of showing your affection, aru. Stopping, starting, over and over. Are you tired, Opium?" China would pant, damp strands of hair that escaped his hair tie across his face. "Can't you finish?" He was mocking England. Even in this state, he was mocking him.

England wiped sweat away from his brow with the back of his hand, frowning. "Oh shut up, will you? Nothing but criticism, even when I'm trying to please you."

"You're just terrible, Op-" The insult was left unfinished when England, in a hateful comeback, hit _that one spot_ that he knew made China's nerves spasm. It was like he memorized it's location when he was prepping China, when China made that long groan, right before they actually engaged in sex, when he made China orgasm twice before, when-

He hit it again. And a third time. China gave up counting after the fifth time. "Must you be so cruel?" his stomach and inside thighs were already aching from over-exertion and even breathing felt laborious.

"If I get this reaction from you, yes." England was close to finishing, but he wanted to see China make that face one more time. He lifted China's legs slightly higher over his shoulders, keeping very sure not to hurt the other.

China moaned in protest to the movement, but really it felt wonderful. He was only complaining to keep England from being to gentle. He couldn't stand seeing England be so annoyingly chivalrous.

England's head was swimming when China was finally pushed over the edge. China looked so exhausted and didn't make a comment on England's continuation. Finally England pulled out, and China managed to weakly demand his hands be untied.

"Stupid Opium Bastard, aru." He shakily stood up and gathered his clothes, both intact and damaged. "You owe me for the shirt."

England donned his jacket. "Okay, whatever. The door?"

"Is locked."

"Can't you just kick it down or something?"

China's glare meant more than just "no." However he dragged himself over to the entryway and jiggled the doorknob. He stepped back, inhaled sharply and landed a kick to the door. Nothing really happened since China had tried to force the door open in the opposite direction, but he tried again. The wood near the hinges splintered, and a third kick knocked the wooden board against the opposite wall in the hallway. China swayed slightly to keep on his feet, but he would be okay.

"Hey have I told you that you never cease to amaze me with that strength?" England said optimistically. "You could match Ameri-"

"I surpass America, aru. Don't insult me." He tried to walk outside into the night air but England stopped him with a shoulder touch. "Now what do you want? It's late, I'm tired and sore, and frankly I want to go to bed, aru."

England shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to China. "It's cold."

"Astute observation. I don't need your pity." China put the jacket on however, buttoning it up. "Next time this happens..." he trailed off.

"It won't."

"Zai jian, Opium."

* * *

England nearly forgot that there was another meeting in the morning, until his alarm clock reminded him. Thankfully it was the last for a few months.

He and China were understandably tired, but another pair looked in about the same shape. America didn't even command the floor most of the time and Germany had to take over. Japan wasn't even at the meeting.

"Hey, America, what's wrong with you today?" England asked when Germany dismissed everyone. "You were quiet, which is quite rare."

"Oh yeah me and Japan went out for drinks and stuff so yeah. Rough night. What about you, dude?"

England waved America off. "It's nothing, really." He cringed when China walked by, obviously hearing the excuse. "Uh...Hey tell Japan something for me when you see him next."

America nodded. "Yeah sure. What?"

"Checkmate." England turned around and waved goodbye to America. "Alright, see you soon."

"...I don't get it."


End file.
